


Day by Day

by Ciphertext_x, RoboticSpaceCase



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alpha Bill Cipher, Alpha Gideon Gleeful, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Arranged Marriage, Bill is a little bit of an idiot about omegas at first, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Omega Dipper Pines, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prostitution, Slight Sexism, There's a character named Big Daddy Henry so, Violence via Gideon being an asshole later, You know it'll be good, omega Mabel Pines
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-03-03 17:35:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13346133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ciphertext_x/pseuds/Ciphertext_x, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoboticSpaceCase/pseuds/RoboticSpaceCase
Summary: When Waddles gets sick, Dipper and Mabel find themselves struggling to pay his vet bills. With few options, Dipper turns to whatever means he can, eventually landing himself in an arranged marriage with a strange alpha who is used to getting what he wants. However, Bill Cipher doesn’t seem to know what to do with an omega who won’t consummate.As the new pair fight to see eye to eye, Dipper learns that this arrangement hasn’t quite solved every problem like he thought it would. Gideon Gleeful is still out for Mabel’s heart, and now Dipper’s blood.





	1. It Ain't Easy

**Author's Note:**

> What the fuck is UP, folks.
> 
> This entire fic was born in the span of about six hours, will be purely for fun, and have a mix of both British English and American English because editing it all to be one way would be tedious and fuck that noise. Also, if there is anything weird, I should warn you that we're constantly trolling each other so have fun with that if you see it.
> 
>    
> Hope you enjoy, comments and kudos are very much appreciated.  
> -Robo

Mabel was crying again.

This was the third time since Monday that Waddles had displayed signs of sickness, and with his age, she could no longer ignore it. However living on a diet solely consisting of packet noodles and Hot Pockets, they definitely wouldn’t be able to afford treatment should he need it. Their last visit to the vet’s office had proven that much.

His twin sniffled; she knew all too well how tight their budget was. Mabel worked as a waitress at Greasy’s Diner, and she’d managed to pick up extra hours recently. Her upbeat personality tended to bring in plenty of tips to help them with their everyday bills, but it wasn’t enough to cover anything outside of that. The car’s state of disrepair was a danger to passengers and pedestrians alike, and Dipper worried that come winter, he’d end up accidentally driving the thing right into a wall. That’d be cheaper than getting it fixed.

Dipper would gladly have helped, but as a male omega, jobs weren’t exactly easy to come by. Female omegas like Mabel were more widely accepted to work simple jobs as the public preferred to see them over what they considered to be an oddity. An oddity like Dipper. Occasionally, he did freelance work online as an artist, though there was little passion behind it these days and opportunities for anything substantial rarely came his way.

Yes, they struggled, but he could hardly stand to watch Mabel cry because Waddles was sick. And he wasn’t about to sit back and let the pig suffer regardless; Waddles could be all right sometimes.

“Don’t worry, Waddles,” Mabel cried, hugging the pig tight and kissing the top of his head. “We’ll be there soon. Everything’s gonna be fine. Dipper’s driving as fast as he can. Aren’t you, Dipper?”

“Fast as I can,” he affirmed with a nod, as if the pig could understand him.

Mabel cooed and sobbed the whole ride, whispering reassurances - more to herself than Waddles, Dipper thought - and glancing up to see if they were there yet. Fearing that the car might lose a wheel if he went even a mile faster, Dipper chose to drive carefully. Waddles would be fine. He hoped.

By the time they reached the vet, the entire inside of the car was soaked with the scent of Mabel’s distress. Dipper hated that smell and wished he could easily fix it: his gut told him that was going to be much easier said than done.

Although he wasn’t nearly as large as most full-grown pigs, neither of them could lift Waddles, so the walk into the run-down building was agonizingly slow. Waddles thumped and wheezed his way up the path. Mabel let out a little sob with every sluggish step. Dipper dreaded the impending prognosis.

While Mabel coaxed Waddles to the reception desk and did all of the work checking him in, Dipper sat on one of the uncomfortable chairs in the waiting area, looking around at the other sick animals. There was a funny thing about hospitals and being around all those germs that always made him uncomfortable. Apparently, vet offices gave him that same feeling. It didn’t help that he could feel people staring at him with judgemental eyes. Of course, he knew why that was. Not one, but _two_ unmated omegas out in public? Half the people in here probably thought that was nothing short of scandalous.

A tiny bit of aggression seeped into his scent: a mild and subtle way of telling those wrinkling their noses at him to mind their own business. Mabel peeked over at him with questioning eyes, but then the vet made an appearance and took her and her pig down the corridor and into an exam room. Her anxiety left an almost visible trail in the air behind her.

So Dipper sat and waited. Listened to the women behind the desk chatter about their day. Glared at exactly two alphas, and a small child who was touching all the display items and apparently couldn’t hear his mother when told to _sit down_. He tapped his foot restlessly and fidgeted with his fingers. Any minute, Mabel would emerge from that room with a fresh wave of tears on her face. He’d never be able to brace himself enough for that.

He was so caught up in his worry that he didn’t notice the woman in the pale pink shirt standing right in front of him. Not until she cleared her throat. He looked up.

The receptionist.

“Hi,” she said brightly. It clashed with his mood horribly, and he wished he could get away with standing up and walking away. “You came in with the pig right?”

“His name is Waddles,” Dipper muttered.

“Right,” she replied, sitting down beside him. “I just couldn’t help but notice that you’re sitting here alone while you wait. Maybe you don’t have time now, but I get off for lunch in five minutes. If you wanted to-”

“Not interested,” he told her flatly.

He could smell the indistinct alpha scent rolling off her, and that wasn’t something he wanted to deal with right now. It definitely wasn’t a bad or an overpowering smell. Maybe she was keeping it in check. Maybe she wore blockers of some kind. Maybe she was just naturally like that. Either way, he didn’t want to go to lunch with her.

“Well, I-” she said, looking wildly taken aback by his rejection. “I mean...don’t you like my scent?”

“No.”

Immediately, he wished he hadn’t said that. She didn’t just look offended, she looked hurt. As she got to her feet and turned to storm away, he tried to come up with some way he could atone for that insult. Clarify what he meant, apologize, _something_. By the time he opened his mouth, she was back behind the desk and the vet nurse beside her was glaring in his direction. Feeling his face get warm with everyone staring at him again, he slouched in the chair and kept his eyes fixed to the ground.

Mabel emerged with the vet and Waddles ten whole minutes later, her eyes red. She paid at the desk - for the consultation only, Dipper assumed, as she hadn’t come out with anything new - and led Waddles back outside without so much as a word to Dipper. He followed her in silence all the way to the car, and it was only when they were seated and ready to go that she burst into tears once more.

“What did they say?” he asked gently.

“Waddles needs antibiotics!” she wailed. “The vet said he has the flu. He’ll be okay for a little while, but it can spread to his lungs and he could get pneumonia if we don’t treat it now. Dipper, we can’t afford to treat it now! What are we going to do?”

“I...I don’t know,” he admitted, reversing out of the parking space and setting off for home. “We’ll think of something. You can keep doing extra hours at the diner, I’ll...find something.”

His twin continued to sniffle, trying to stifle more tears.

“At this point I’m going to have to start selling my body or something,” she joked, a small laugh escaping through the sobs.

Dipper chuckled lightly as well, the mood in the car too heavy to laugh genuinely at the idea. Not that it wouldn’t work - he was sure the traffic for that kind of stuff in the shady part of town was enough to rake in the dough - but there was no way he’d let Mabel do something like that. She was far more romantic and traditional than he was. He knew she was waiting for the right person to come along.

“You won’t have to turn to anything like that, Mabel. Like I said, we’ll think of something.”

He gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. There were very few options for them at this point. Saying that they would be able to figure something out was nothing short of a comfort lie, and Mabel knew it as well as he did.

They arrived back at the shack with a new weight on their shoulders. As kids, coming here had always felt like coming home. It _was_ their home now that their great uncles were off exploring the world together. But with Mabel so sad and Waddles apparently set to get even sicker, there was no happiness or warmth to be found in the doorway.

Mabel took Waddles into the living room and set him up on the sofa with more blankets than any pig had a right to. Whether Waddles cared or not, at least it seemed to put her at ease. Dipper watched her sit at the pig’s head and _not_ turn on the TV.

“You want some Mabel juice?” he asked, hoping that if the idea didn’t perk her up, the sugar in the drink might.

“This isn’t a Mabel juice kind of time,” she whined.

He glanced over at the clock. “Looks like it’s a lunch kind of time though. I’ll cook. I’m thinking Maco Taco.”

That got her attention. She lifted her watery eyes away from Waddles to stare at him with interest. “With dip?”

“The saltiest canned tomato soup you ever did see,” he promised.

“I want it pink this time,” she muttered. “And my chili sauce.”

“Duh.”

Satisfied with the spark of life in his twin for now, he turned on the TV for her and retreated to the kitchen.

Maco Taco was probably the world’s most disgusting invention, and Mabel’s favorite when she was feeling low. So Dipper set about making mac and cheese, adding a couple of drops of red food coloring to the melted cheese and slicing up hot dogs to go in it. In Mabel’s opinion, pink made food taste better. Dipper had once tried to argue with her, citing pink chicken as something that definitely wouldn’t make _anyone_ feel better. Mabel had promptly declared him a coward and started giggling when he got frustrated with her.

Pausing his stirring for a second, he grabbed a can of tomato soup and poured it into another pot to let it heat up, then searched around for the tortillas. That was the Taco part of the affair. Everything _had_ to be wrapped inside a tortilla and served with tomato soup for dipping. The filling usually ended up falling _into_ the soup, which left a liquidy gross mess of pasta, cheese, and sauce all curdled together with cold soup. That’s what the extra tortillas were for.

Dipper set up plates, bowls, and cans of soda on the counter before spooning the pink pasta into the tortillas. He added a generous squirt of Mabel’s special chili sauce - the special part being all the edible glitter in it - to her mix, then wrapped the tacos.

Soup in bowls, tacos on plates, the world’s best lunch was ready.

There was definitely a reason why Mabel was the one working at Greasy’s and not him, he thought, as he struggled to fit everything on a tray and carry it through to her. If anyone asked him to do anything like this outside of the times he did it for Mabel, he would fail miserably. He could see the dishes flying everywhere, drinks spreading out over the table, enraged middle-aged mothers covered in gravy promising to never eat there again. Domestic stuff just wasn’t his forte.

Some omega he was.

“Your meal is complete, your majesty,” he said in a mock posh voice.

“Excellent, good sir. Setteth it down upon thine table that lies betwixt ye olde telly and this, our grand throne, and we shalt enjoy this mighty feast whilst watching the peasants make merry.” She mimicked his tone and held her head high, her hands busy petting Waddles’ head.

He grinned. The atmosphere still hung heavy on them, but as they started to dig into their sloppy meal it lifted ever so slightly. Just enough for Dipper to finally take in a deep breath and clear his mind as he ate.

Finding a job that could actually help them wasn’t going to be easy. Dipper would have to look _everywhere_ for a place that would take a male omega. Places he’d never considered before. He wished there were more things like call centers in their small town. They were less likely to discriminate since their employees weren’t actually facing anyone. But the nearest one had to be at least an hour away, if not more. Stan’s ancient car, gifted to Dipper and Mabel “just for safekeeping ‘til I get back”, would never survive the continuous back and forth out of town, and taking the bus would be way too costly for an everyday commute.

“You’re food’s gonna turn into mush, Dip,” Mabel commented.

“It’s already mush,” he laughed.

Mabel huffed, setting her plate down for a moment so that she could go back to petting Waddles. “I know you’re going to do your best to help, but don’t stress about it too much, bro-bro. After all, Waddles is my pet and I should be in charge of him and his bills.”

Placing his dish down next to hers, Dipper let out a long sigh. Mabel already did everything else because of his inability to get a job.

He _was_ perfectly capable of working. Being an omega didn’t hinder his abilities. So why couldn’t he just pick up a normal job like betas or alphas did? What about them was so special? Dipper could do everything they could do, and probably do it _better_ too.

He knew the answers to his questions, of course. It was no secret that the element of sexism played heavily into how lone omegas were able to live their lives. Still, to this day, that infamous omega marriage law was enforced. The archaic rule that one omega from every family - assuming there was one or more - had to be married and registered under an alpha. The bullshit had never been changed to move with the times, and most omegas were too timid or scared to ever speak out against it. Although in the last few years, they’d relaxed the age rule a bit. Twenty-five was the upper limit before any semblance of choice would be taken out of the omega’s hands and left to the Omega Registration Law Enforcement Agency. ORLEA for short.

With Dipper and Mabel having recently turned twenty-two, they still had a short while to go before they had to worry about that.

“No, if I can help, I’m going to. He may be a silly pig, but he’s _our_ silly pig. Besides, you’re already doing literally everything else. It would be shitty of me to sick back and let you stress about this by yourself.”

Dipper ran a hand through his hair, still knocking some ideas around in his head.

His twin didn’t seem to know what to say to him, so the two fell into a comfortable silence while they finished off their messy lunch. Dipper could feel it hit his stomach like a brick and knew he would surely be paying for it later, but that didn’t stop him from chowing down. He would need the energy for the late night of thinking he was about to endure.

“Don’t overthink this, okay?” Mabel said softly when Dipper stood to clean their dishes. “We always manage to make it through this kinda stuff.” The forced smile she gave didn’t reach her eyes. “Just keep on doin’ your nerd stuff and something will come along.”

Dipper attempted a much warmer smile for her sake. It didn’t come off that way, he just knew it, but he’d at least tried. “Don’t worry yourself sick either. We can’t afford to take you in too,” he joked.

When Mabel said “nerd stuff”, she really meant his art. Dipper could hardly say he made a living off it, especially when commissions were so few and far between. But every now and then, someone with specific tastes and a previously rejected idea sent him an e-mail after seeing his work, which tended to land them with an extra hundred dollars in the bank. Drawing straight up porn was known to bring in the bigger bucks.

He’d sort of accidentally discovered his niche for it a while back. After drawing for years, improving, and being able to bring in money from commissions, one client had asked him the classic “do you do NSFW?” question. Figuring that he _could,_ seeing as he was pretty okay at drawing everything else, he’d taken the client’s request with sparkling results. Not only did these commissions bring in more money, but he’d discovered the wilder a client’s vision, the more money they were generally willing to pay.

And while Dipper wasn’t pining after an alpha, he was no prude. Sex was great. Or at least the very few times he’d let a beta fuck him in high school, it had been great. The more traditional members of their society would have a collective aneurysm if they knew. A deflowered _unmated_ omega who drew obscene art for money? Unheard of. Shocking. Potentially even worth investigating. Dipper wondered if he could sell some kind of ‘coming out’ story to a newsagent or a magazine. That’d surely bring in a decent amount to help them with Waddles. The backlash, though...no, it wasn’t worth it.

He left the dishes to dry on the rack and headed upstairs, hoping that there might just be an e-mail sitting in his inbox with promises of high payment if he drew something weird and specific. The classic as of late tended to be men growing boobs for no reason. The bigger, the better. But Dipper doubted he was that lucky.

Pulling out a piece of paper at his desk, he prepared to start mind-mapping. Things he definitely _could_ do, things he could try to do, and things that probably wouldn’t yield many results for him but that he’d have to try nonetheless. Asking their great uncles to send them some money was a definite no-go. They had even less than he and Mabel did, only managing to travel because of Stan’s self-proclaimed “know-how” and Ford’s other resources. Resources that wouldn’t help them with Waddles.

No matter what idea he came up with, it seemed like everything was just a dead end. Dipper would find something, though. He had to. Even if it meant losing sleep for a few nights. For Mabel.


	2. Diamond Dogs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gently encouraged to behave in this here note, so I'll welcome y'all to this second chapter and wish you a pleasant reading experience with a smiley face :)
> 
> I now gently encourage YOU to leave comments when you're done because we're both So Tired™ and the only way to give us energy is to fuel us with WORDS. You don't understand. We have meme fights in the shared Google Doc we use to write this. Resources are depleted. 
> 
> kthnxbai  
> -Cipher

Dipper jumped awake when the front door slammed. He stared around at his surroundings, groggy, noting a stiffness in his neck and the crinkling of paper under his elbow. He must have fallen asleep on the couch this morning after Mabel went to work.

When Mabel herself stormed into the living room, loudly stomping and throwing down her bag, Dipper scrambled to hide his papers. She knew he was trying to come up with ways to help her, but there was something about his planning that felt like it should be a secret. His sister completely ignored him though in favour of dropping to her knees and hugging Waddles as the pig napped by the doors to the old gift shop.

“How was your day?” Dipper asked. His voice was croaky from his long nap.

“It was fine,” she said, muffled by Waddles. “Until Gideon showed up. Again.”

Dipper groaned. 

“I’ve told him a hundred times not to bug me when I’m working,” Mabel grumbled. “And when I politely reminded him today, he said he’d just bug me on my days off instead, and he gave me this creepy smile and he laughed and Lazy Susan was like ‘oh, young love!’ and Dipper, if he ever shows up at Greasy’s again while I’m on shift, I’m quitting.”

“Mabel-”

“I mean it this time,” she said, lifting her face away from Waddles’ belly to look at him with shiny eyes. “Why can’t he just leave me alone? Like, how much clearer can I make it that I’m not interested?”

Dipper stared at his twin. That distressed smell she gave off was something he was far too quickly becoming used to. He scratched the back of his neck, not sure what to say.

“Want me to kick his ass?”

Mabel shook her head and shrugged. “No offence, bro-bro, but he’d probably win. And it wouldn’t solve anything anyway.”

Dipper tried not to look too offended. The truth did, indeed, hurt. 

Mabel sat up and carefully wiped her eyes, making sure not to smudge her makeup too badly. “Something will come along; it always does. I dunno what it’ll be, but we’ll be alright.”

Her words were more to comfort herself, but Dipper took them to heart. Something would come along, and he would be the one to make sure of it.

“We will,” he agreed. “We’ve always managed to get out of bad situations together, we can do it again.” 

The smile he put on felt fake. Mabel needed the optimism, but she didn’t seem to notice his efforts as she got up then promptly flopped face-first onto the sofa beside him.

“So, uh...how were your tips?”

“I don’t want to talk about my tips,” Mabel grumbled, voice muffled by the sofa cushions. “My biggest tip came from that pasty little creep with that stupid pompadour, which by the way, is more gel than it is hair. Ugh, I-”

“Okay, we can talk about something else.”

“Dipper, I don’t want to talk,” she said as she sat up and began to disappear inside her oversized sweater. “I want to visit Sweater Town forever.”

“Mabel,” Dipper groaned.

“Sweater Town isn’t accepting visitors right now!”

Dipper narrowed his eyes at the blue lump that was his twin sister. There’d be no talking to her while she was like this. If anything, Mabel had gotten worse over the years when it came to Sweater Town. As a kid, it’d never taken too long to find some way of coaxing her out and into a better mood, but these days Mabel could stay curled up inside her sweater for hours without moving so much as an inch. It couldn’t be a good thing.

With a huff and a final glare, Dipper stalked off upstairs for a shower. Falling asleep on the couch in the middle of the day had left him feeling sweaty and gross, and he had that weird five-hour-nap taste in his mouth. So he showered, changed his shirt, and grabbed a can of SpaghettiOs from the cupboard to eat cold. Uncooked, they were a little slimy. Dipper finished the whole can.

Mabel was still in Sweater Town when he came back into the living room. Not sure what else he could do, he glanced at the clock. Six in the evening. He eyed his sister again.

“Important message for the citizens of Sweater Town,” he said, feeling stupid. “I’m going out. I’ll text you later.”

His twin gave a short grumble of a reply. Dipper hoped a walk and some fresh air would give him some idea of what he could do to help her: he’d been cooped up inside for way too long.

Outside was some sort of pleasant that Dipper found himself unable to fully enjoy. It had been a while since he last went for a walk to clear his head, and everything around him seemed just as painfully normal as usual. When he’d been twelve, these woods and the twisting dirt road that connected the shack to the rest of the town had inspired a sense of mystery and wonder in him. Playing here with Mabel, hanging out with Wendy and her older friends, Dipper had felt more at home than he ever had in California. He’d sometimes fancied himself a cryptid hunter and there had been more than a few cuts and bruises as a result of that. Plus one particularly impressive scar on his knee.

Maybe it had something to do with their current predicament, but Dipper didn’t feel even a sense of nostalgia as he followed the road into town. 

His heavy feet led him to the same place they usually did; the bar.

Dipper wasn’t really one to drown his sorrows. Alcohol didn’t tend to do much for him other than make things wavy for a while. However the new setting and a drink or two bought with the small amount of spare cash he always kept on him could provide a new perspective on things. And he needed a new perspective pretty desperately right now. He didn’t know how much longer he could stand the sour smell of Mabel’s distress.

He ordered a mixed drink, not caring to even remember the name after it passed his lips. Within seconds the drink was slid in front of him and he pushed some cash across the counter. It felt wrong to be spending money on much of anything at the moment, especially alcohol, but five bucks wasn’t going to really hurt or help them either way.

He let out a heavy sigh and tried not to focus on the sounds around him, knowing at least one or two people would make some sort of comment about him being there on his own. Hell, he was shocked he hadn’t had an alpha approach him already, though the place wasn’t exactly at its peak for the night. He would have to be sure to bounce before the bigger crowd came in.

As he sipped his drink, he tried to make a mental list of things he could do to help Mabel. At the top was “get a job”. If only it were so easy to get one. He stared at the bartender over the rim of his glass and wondered if demanding one or batting his eyelashes was the way to go.

The door behind him burst open, and a group of around six guys clambered loudly into the bar. Dipper glanced over his shoulder but didn’t recognise any of them. Probably tourists. Two of them sidled up to the bar while the others dispersed to find a table.

At his side, the two alphas chatted, their voices cutting through the din. Dipper turned his head away. Boisterous alphas and alcohol didn’t usually spell good things for him.

“-yeah, and did you see the one with the belly-button piercing? She must be new. Alex got her number.”

“Is that allowed?”

“He pretty much lets them do whatever they want,” the first alpha said. “Big Daddy’s weird like that.”

Dipper snorted into his drink.

“I kinda prefer that though, you know?” the second commented. “It’s so much better when you can tell they’re having sex with you ‘cause they actually  _ want  _ to.”

“What are you  _ talking  _ about, that was your first time with a whore and you can’t even pretend it wasn’t.”

“Say it louder, I don’t think the guy in the bathroom heard you.”

The first alpha chuckled. “Nah, you’re right. Big Daddy runs one of the best places in Oregon. Only thing he’s missing is a male omega, to be honest. That’s my fourth year visiting and he  _ still  _ doesn’t have one.”

Dipper wouldn’t have been able to ignore them with how loud they were anyway, but at the mention of his gender, he could practically feel his ears pricking up.

“We could visit again on the way home?”

“Nah,” the first one said. “I couldn’t afford that place again so soon. Big Daddy charges way more than up in those bigger cities.”

Dipper turned without thinking, his mouth open before he’d even had a chance to consider all the reasons why he  _ shouldn’t  _ be doing this.

“Where's this place at?” It was a bit of an abrupt question, but he felt like part of the conversation anyway with how loud they were speaking.

The alpha closest to him - the first one who’d spoken - perked up and looked around at Dipper, the small smile on his face growing wider as he realized why someone who looked like Dipper might be asking. He turned his whole body Dipper’s way, leaning on the bar in a way that  _ screamed  _ “I’m casual, I’m cool”.

“You looking to spend the night with an alpha?  _ I  _ can help you with that for  _ free _ .” The alpha’s eyes twinkled with mischief. 

Dipper's cheeks turned warm, dusting a light pink color as he turned a little more to face the guy.

“Who says I'm looking to pay?” He grinned back and leaned closer. This guy seemed tame enough, unlike some of the other alphas he’d had the displeasure of meeting, and it had been  _ way  _ too long since he’d last playfully flirted with anyone. “Maybe I'm looking to fill a hole.” 

Dipper cringed immediately, cheeks turning redder still. If the ground wanted to open up beneath him and drag him away from his embarrassment, that would be fine. He was reminded, again, why he rarely went on dates.

To his credit, the alpha took the innuendo in his stride.

“I can definitely help you with that,” he suggested with a wink. “You live in town or we about to find a hotel room?”

Dipper did his best to look as chill as possible about the invitation, trying to hide the red in his cheeks by taking a sip of his drink. It would be a cold day in Hell before he told Mabel - or  _ anyone, _ for that matter - about this awkward conversation.

“I was referring to the place you were talking about. No male omegas? I seem to fit that bill. Thanks for the offer though, I'm very flattered.”  

When the alpha chuckled awkwardly, his face turning a bit pink as well, Dipper stifled an embarrassingly genuine giggle and blamed the action on the alcohol.

“O-oh, right. Yeah. Misread that one. Sorry. Uh, so Big Daddy’s place is in New Pipe. I bet he’d love it if you stopped by. Word is he hangs out in a bar called The S-Bend. He’s a huge alpha, lots of tattoos, you can’t miss him.”

Dipper’s stomach dropped a bit at that. Huge alpha? Tattoos? He hated to judge, but this man didn’t sound like the kind of guy he wanted to entrust himself to. Sure, he liked sex, but he’d be vulnerable if he took the job, and this Big Daddy didn’t sound at all like someone Dipper should be approaching.

_ Took this job _ , what was he even thinking? He couldn’t do this. He shouldn’t even be considering this. He’d be a prostitute. There was no sugar-coating it. He’d be an actual real-life whore, nothing like what Mabel sometimes called him when she was losing to him in any video game. 

Oh. Mabel. 

He’d never be able to tell her. He’d have to make up some lie. He’d have to buy special deodorant and soap to wash the smell off himself at the end of shifts, because Mabel’s nose was keener than a dog’s and she’d definitely notice even the neutral smell of scent-blocking toiletries. There was no telling how she’d react if she found out. Mabel was pretty open-minded, but he somehow doubted she’d be okay with her twin brother selling sex to strangers in New Pipe.

Then again...maybe she’d get over it. He’d be able to contribute towards Waddles’ vet bills. Seeing Waddles well again would probably make her happy enough for her to subconsciously forgive him. Hopefully.

He didn’t want to give himself too much time to think about it. He could go and meet Big Daddy first, then decide.

Throwing back the remainder of his drink, he got to his feet.

“Thanks for your help!” he said to the alpha.

“Hey, if you’re going to be working for Big Daddy, maybe I’ll see you in New Pipe?” 

The alpha’s eyes were wide and hopeful, and it would have been so much cuter if it weren’t for the fact that he was hoping to pay Dipper for sex. Dipper still found it oddly charming somehow.

“Maybe you will.”

With a final flirtatious grin, Dipper turned to leave, catching the alpha’s friend talking as he did.

“You’re so embarrassing, man, I can’t believe you just…”

According to his phone there was a bus passing through Gravity Falls on the way to New Pipe in ten minutes. Dipper hurried to the stop, checking his phone for the route and where this S-Bend bar was.

He managed to make it to the stop just in time to catch the bus, a little breathless and dreading the journey. Public transit was never his first option of travel: buses generally smelled weird and had too many people for Dipper to be comfortable, not to mention the germs. And motion sickness.

This bus ride wasn’t actually too bad, though. Probably because he was too focused on his nerves and the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears. Doing something so huge impulsively would leave anyone a little rattled, he reasoned, so he refused to let it deter him from enduring the bus and actually getting off at the right stop.

The drink he’d downed earlier was wearing off. Standing outside the clearly crowded bar, he suddenly felt a lot less confident. This place that was so much bigger and busier than Gravity Falls. Cars zoomed past behind him, the occasional horn blaring. He could hear people across the street hollering and shouting to one another. When someone stepped outside, lighting up a cigarette as she went, pounding and boisterous laughter followed her.

Dipper swallowed. He only had to go in and meet this guy. He could do that. Totally.

Bracing himself wasn’t enough preparation for the onslaught of smells. In a place this crowded, he couldn’t tell alpha from omega, something for which he was kind of thankful, but that only served to make him more nervous. There were far too many people in there. He’d never be able to find Big Daddy in this, for a start.

He squeezed his way up to the bar, through small throngs of people and between tables and chairs. One of several bartenders was at his side in an instant.

“ID?” 

“I’m not here for a drink,” Dipper explained, hesitant. “I’m here to see…” He winced. “Big Daddy?”

The bartender snorted, seemed to look him up and down critically in a way that might have gotten Dipper’s back up if he wasn’t about to bail out and run. 

“You sure?”

Feeling anxious under this judgemental stare, Dipper could only nod. His voice would go soft, and he’d never be heard over the din, then the bartender would laugh him out into the street.

“Whatever,” the barkeeper huffed. He gestured to the door just behind the bar. “Go down two flights of stairs, take the door on the far left.”

Dipper offered another small nod in thanks, forcing his legs to push him through the rest of the crowd. Thankfully when he opened the door, he found himself alone with the set of stairs before him. The noise from before became muffled as the door closed behind him.

With every ounce of courage he had, Dipper made his way down the desterted staircase, the mixed smells only growing worse with each step. By the time he made it to the door the bartender had told him to go through, his nerves were frazzled and he wondered if he should just turn around and bolt out of this place. He could probably run back to Gravity Falls with all the adrenaline. 

But he didn’t. Couldn’t. Mabel needed his help, and this definitely didn’t sound like the  _ worst _ way to make money. He could do it.

The room behind the door was nothing like Dipper expected it to be. It was clean and warm, smelled rather pleasant, and the people in it didn’t even turn to spare him a glance like he thought they might. No critical stares, no oppressive atmosphere. He relaxed a little. 

In the back of the room in the biggest chair sat a large male, dark skin covered from head to toe in tattoos. Handmade jewelry that looked to be made of leather and tumbled stones was wrapped around his wrists, draped over his neck. Wild curly hair, a little longer than shoulder length, was pulled back in a thick ponytail. While others sat and chatted on comfortable-looking couches or chairs, and others stood with drinks and phones in hand, this man sat alone. He nursed a tall glass of clear liquid which Dipper dearly hoped wasn’t something like straight vodka. 

His presence was hard to miss. Definitely alpha.

Almost immediately, he noticed Dipper and smiled over at him. Dipper had been expecting more of an annoyed look for entering the room, but this expression was strangely warm and welcoming.

“Welcome,” he said in a booming voice. “What can I help you with, young man?”

All eyes shifted to Dipper for a fraction of a second and he swallowed thickly before closing the door and stepping into the room so that he didn’t have to yell across it. He took hurried steps in.

“I-I, uh, I’m here to see Big Daddy?” 

Dipper wished his voice didn’t sound so shaky. The alpha didn’t seemed shocked by his words, though, and just continued to look at him with a friendly grin.

“That’d be me! Big Daddy Henry. Call me what you like, but that’s the name. What do I have the pleasure of calling you? I assume ‘young man’ won’t work forever, yeah?” 

The alpha got up from his chair. He was tall in front of Dipper, and broad with those muscles beefing him up. Yet as he stood, he didn’t seem to be trying to intimidate anyone. He just held out his hand for Dipper to shake it, face devoid of any malice.

Dipper hadn’t expected him to be so polite. It threw him off, making him choke on and stumble over his words.

“Uh, D-Dipper. My name’s Dipper. I-it- It’s nice to meet you.” He threw out his own sweaty hand to shake the alpha’s. His hand was big, but the grip was gentle.

“The pleasure is all mine, Dipper! What can I do for someone such as yourself on this fine day, hm? Have you come to do business with one of my lovely ladies or gentlemen? I have some alphas free, if that’s what you’re looking for.” 

Henry - Dipper preferred to refer to him as such because there was no way he could call him ‘Big Daddy’ knowing he had a perfectly  _ normal  _ name - fixed the collar of his expensive polo before gesturing to the crowd of people around them. 

“Or if you’d like, I have some wonderful betas, and other omegas like yourself. No one quite like you, unfortunately, if that’s something you were looking for.”

“N-no, I actually…” 

Dipper scratched the back of his neck, returning a friendly, if not  _ pained _ smile. Spitting out what he wanted proved to be a little harder than he had thought it would be. But he’d come all this way. Turning back now would just be dumb. And Henry didn’t seem that bad. 

“I was wondering if I could fill that position for you. A little birdy told me you don’t have any male omegas.”

He wasn’t about to say that he had lucked out hearing about this place at a bar. What this alpha was doing wasn’t legal by any means, so Dipper doubted he’d like hearing about some random people giving directions to this place so freely.

“Really?” Henry raised a brow at him, scanning the brunet up and down for a moment. “I’d love to have you, Dipper. But Big Daddy Henry has a different process than most people of my status. You look a little shaken and I can smell the drink you’ve had on your breath. I’m not about to sign you up for something you’re not one hundred percent on board with, y’know? Not my style. I need you to come back to me alcohol-free with a clear statement about what you’d like to do here.”

Dipper blinked up at the man. “Clear statement?”

Henry pulled a simple, plain white card from the front pocket of his shirt, handing it to Dipper. He continued to beam as the omega took it, patting him on the shoulder. “Call me tomorrow when you’re totally sober. Tell me what services you’d like to offer and I’ll set you up. If you can do that with confidence, I’ll welcome you to make an appointment with me to work out the rest, yeah?”

Dipper nodded, his eyes glued to the card. “Uh, yeah. Yes, definitely.”

“Good! Now, do you need any help getting home? I can tell you’re not from the city, so if you need, I can offer a ride for you. I take care of my people, so if you’re really going to be one of us, I’d like to make sure you get home safely.” Henry’s expression was so genuine, Dipper couldn’t help but feel like he had made a friend simply by walking into the room.

“Nah, I’ll be okay. Thank you, though, I really appreciate that.” 

Dipper tucked the card into his pocket, knowing in that moment that he would definitely give the guy a call tomorrow while Mabel was at work. There was something about Henry he couldn’t help but trust and it seemed like the perfect solution to his problems in that moment. He could definitely do this.

“It’s no problem, Dipper. I look forward to hearing from you tomorrow. Have a lovely night!”

After a short goodbye, Dipper left the room, his smile refusing to leave. That had been a surprisingly nice experience, and - if he was being completely honest with himself - the idea of doing something he enjoyed anyway for money had him excited for the next day. It might not be a permanent solution, but for the time being, Dipper had found a way to help Mabel, and that was all that mattered to him.


	3. Rebel Rebel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooo, it's ya bois, back at it again with another chapter of this fantastic ABO fic
> 
> We're getting closer and closer to Bill coming into the picture >:D
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Comments are highly appreciated! <3
> 
> -Robo

Dipper didn’t call Henry the next day. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. 

Thinking about how stupid it had been to hop on a bus to an unfamiliar city and approach a strange alpha - and one who employed prostitutes, no less - made him sit and consider what the hell he was actually doing here. He hadn’t had a lot to drink that night, though the alcohol had definitely emboldened him at least a little. So what had he been thinking?

It wasn’t until the fourth day, as Mabel left the shack to work an evening shift looking positively miserable, that he sucked it up and fished for the card in his jacket pocket. The small amount he’d had to drink may have been enough to encourage him, but it hadn’t been  _ nearly  _ enough to confuse his impression of people. Henry -  _ Big Daddy -  _ had seemed like a nice guy. And if Dipper didn’t like the sound of him over the phone today, he could always hang up and never worry about the alpha again, no harm done. Except the blow to his pride.

“ _ You’ve got Big Daddy, what can I do for you? _ ” came the bored but unmistakable voice of Henry.

“H-Hi, I am Dipper, it’s Dipper here,” he stammered out, suddenly forgetting how to speak English. Would Henry even remember him? “From-?”

“ _ Dipper! _ ” The alpha suddenly sounded a  _ lot  _ more lively. “ _ I was starting to think you’d never call! _ ”

“Yeah, sorry, I had a lot to think about.”

“ _ No need to be sorry, yeah? This line of work should be given careful consideration, after all! Everyone’s got different reasons for doing this. You have to decide if it’s worth it. Have you made a decision? _ ”

Dipper bit his lip. Yes, it really  _ should  _ be given careful consideration, and here he was about to dive in headfirst having done maybe only half of the considering he ought.

“I’d like to work for you,” he blurted out.

“ _ Wonderful news! _ ” Henry sounded like he was beaming, and Dipper could picture it vividly. “ _ You can come down to the office tomorrow so we can go over everything, get things down on paper, show you how we operate and all that. But I do want to reassure you now, I take my work seriously! Your information will be protected. And so will you! I don’t allow the mistreatment of my employees - unless they like that sort of thing, of course! We have measures in place to prevent injury in those instances. _ ”

Dipper’s head spun. Injury? Mistreatment? Oh, how he wished he’d done more considering.

“ _ I’ll tell you upfront, I take forty percent per client. Because you’re a male omega, anything you do will go for the higher rates, which will go up the longer you’re with me and vary depending on what acts you’d like to perform or partake in. _ ”

He shook himself out of his stupor. Henry’s tone was shameless. 

“Um, actually, this isn’t really something I want to do forever. I just…sort of need it in the meantime. Is that okay?”

“ _ That’s fine, Dipper _ ,” Henry said amicably. “ _ Why don’t you tell me the kinds of things you’re willing, or not willing to do? Then I can have everything down for you when you come tomorrow. _ ”

“I...haven’t really thought about it? I guess, nothing too adventurous. And I don’t really want to get pregnant by accident or something,” he laughed.

“ _ You know we provide condoms on the house, yeah? Mandatory health screening records to prevent disease and infections, in case you’re worried about that. _ ”

“I’d rather not take the chance,” Dipper admitted nervously. Condoms could break. If anything would turn Henry away, it’d be this.

“ _ No problem, I’ll put you down for just the basics then. We can amend your contract later if you’d like. Not that it’s legal, but Big Daddy likes to do things as proper as possible. _ ”

Tension flooded out of Dipper’s muscles.

“ _ We can talk about it in more detail tomorrow. I like everything in black and white so that there are no mix-ups later. Let’s meet for lunch then, yeah? It’s on Big Daddy, so leave the wallet at home. _ ”

Despite how nervous Dipper had been, the conversation with Big Daddy wound up calming his nerves a substantial amount, forgetting the fact that they sat in a very  _ public  _ café having their conversation. By the end of the lunch, he was much more confident about going into this business. The contract he signed allowed him to leave whenever he wanted - when he no longer needed the work, or even if he just needed a few days off. It was only really there to show Dipper what he was signing up for and what the percentage split looked like.

They talked details too. Details regarding what Dipper was willing to do, and what he was willing to have done to him. Henry unabashedly listed off sex act after sex act, and in the end, it looked like Dipper was hardly up for any of them. Excluding penetrative sex - as the receiving party only, he might add - ruled out a marked number of things. Henry must have sensed him getting anxious about it because he grinned that wide, genuine grin and told him not to worry about it. Dipper’s limits would be respected.

He started the following night, telling Mabel he’d found a job in a bar in the next town over. Whether or not she could tell he was lying - because he was awful at lying - he didn’t know. She seemed stressed when he told her but didn’t question him, and there were at least eight other reasons why Mabel might be stressed anyway.

The first time Dipper sucked a dick for money he was nervous, to say the least. He  _ had  _ done it before, with his high school boyfriend - a beta named Josh he no longer spoke to, and  _ not  _ for money. But there was something different about doing it to a stranger and getting paid for it. Like he was under pressure. Or scrutiny. What if he was bad at it and no one had thought to tell him before? It wasn’t like Josh had had any prior experience, so how would he have known what a bad blow job felt like? 

Dipper was so focused on trying to make sure he did a good job that first time working that he didn’t have time to wonder why he didn’t  _ not  _ enjoy it.

After the first time, he stopped worrying so much. Client feedback stroked his ego: he was  _ very  _ good at giving head. And he stopped wondering why he felt not an ounce of shame about his status and his actions. All of the other prostitutes - every single one of them, of varying genders and secondary genders and sexualities - enjoyed their work. They were open, friendly, welcoming. It was hard to feel out of place among them.

And Dipper’s clients...weren’t at all bad. For the most part. 

He saw a surprisingly even mix of men and women of  _ all  _ secondary genders. Some of them, Dipper didn’t care much for. Most of them were charming, respectful. The first omega to walk into Dipper’s own private room in Henry’s establishment finished far before his allotted hour was up, and curled up with his head on Dipper’s lap, hardly breathing as he chattered away about his personal life with Dipper’s fingers combing idly through his curly red hair.

Bigger surprises - and pleasant ones at that - were the clients who wanted nothing for themselves, but only wanted to give. Dipper was essentially getting paid to sit back and orgasm. Not everyone was very good at bringing him to that brink, but they never seemed to mind if he helped them along a bit. Apparently, some people liked an omega to take charge, and that notion opened up a whole realm of possibilities he’d naively thought were impossible.

He only saw one “bad” client personally. He was sitting in the lobby, snorting into his coffee as a pair of beta women argued good-naturedly about who could do the widest split when the alpha walked in.

The alpha didn’t  _ seem  _ to be a problem at first, and Dipper wasn’t too concerned by the intense stare coming his way. The taller man sat with Henry, Henry motioned Dipper over, Dipper seductively introduced himself to the alpha because he got the sense that was what the alpha was into. Henry reiterated for Dipper what the alpha was looking for. But when he and the alpha started to head off, Henry pulled him back, just for a second, eyes full of distrust.

“Keep your panic button close.”

The panic button system was yet another way the alpha kept his employees safe. Dipper had never had to use it, and he’d never seen anyone else have to use it in his two weeks here.

“Might be nothing. I just don’t like the look of him,” Henry whispered.

Dipper found it hard to relax after that. He trusted Henry’s judgment more than he trusted his own when it came to the job, and if the man didn’t like the look of this alpha, Dipper didn’t either. He could have, at that point, refused to service the alpha. Henry would have been more than happy with that. But he took the alpha into his room anyway, thinking about Waddles and Mabel and the panic button he could press should anything go wrong.

And, of course, it went wrong.

Ten minutes into it, the alpha seemed to get tired of Dipper’s mouth. Dipper refused to let himself be manhandled which only seemed to anger the alpha further following the argument they had about his limits. Condom or not, he wasn’t letting anyone stick their dick anywhere that could get him pregnant.

When the alpha growled, teeth bared and eyes dark, and tried to push him down, Dipper pressed his panic button.

Henry was there within seconds as if he’d been waiting just outside the door. The alpha was removed from the building and warned never to come back. Both Henry and the other employees fussed and fawned over him like he was a toddler who’d just skinned his knee, and in the end, he agreed to take a couple of hours to relax with some of the others in Henry’s office just to get them to leave him alone. 

He was perfectly fine, if  _ slightly  _ shaken about the whole thing, but he definitely didn’t need the two hours of sweet tea and the message that were practically forced on him.

Four weeks into the job, Waddles’ vet bills were being paid, Mabel seemed to have perked up a bit more (though something was clearly still bothering her), and Dipper was starting to think he might just settle for this long-term. His employer was better than any he could ever hope to have in the future, and the money was solid income. Not to mention the fact that he honestly  _ did  _ enjoy the job.

Then, one humid Wednesday night, he finished early. 

Following the dirt road idly on foot through the woods, he thought the strong scent of alpha was coming from  _ him _ . He’d made sure to wash carefully with those scent-neutralizing soaps before he’d left Henry’s place, but the thought that something might still be clinging to his clothes or hair still crossed his mind. 

The closer he got to the shack, though, the stronger the smell became. And it was with a sickening jolt in his stomach that he finally recognized the scent as belonging to Gideon Gleeful. Gideon Gleeful, who flaunted and pushed out his pheromones far more than anyone else in town in some gross attempt to let everyone know he was very much single. Gideon Gleeful, whose scent was honestly repugnant at best and downright nauseating at worst. 

If it was getting stronger, that meant Gideon was still there.

He sped up to a jog, entering the shack through what used to be the gift shop because that door was closer, and following the distant voices to the kitchen.

He relaxed a little at the scene, but only a little.

Gideon sat at the table, sipping the remnants of coffee from their most chipped and stained mug. Mabel, on the other hand, was standing as far away from him as was polite with a strained smile that was more a grimace plastered on her tired face. She leaned against the kitchen counter, arms folded over her chest, and looked up with unadulterated relief when Dipper hurried in.

“Gideon. Hello,” Dipper huffed, his tone as stiff as his body. 

He looked to Mabel, the two exchanging a knowing look. They kept it brief, though, so that Gideon didn't notice the wary, non-verbal communication they shared.

Any other alpha in the home of two omegas would already understand the socially awkward position he was putting them in, but Gideon was too deep in his own little world to care much about how scary it might be for two omegas to be alone with such a pushy alpha.

“What brings you here tonight?” Dipper asked carefully.

As casually as he could Dipper leaned on the counter next to Mabel, closer to Gideon. Gideon’s nostrils flared at having a barrier between himself and the object of his affections. If they could be called affections. Being an omega didn't make Dipper very scary or threatening, but his silent message was clear, and he could at least offer a buffer for Mabel.

“Well, hello to you too,  _ Mason, _ ” Gideon drawled in his awful, exaggeratedly sweet accent. “I was just chattin’ with Mabel 'bout your situation. Seems like you have two unmarked omegas at the end of a family line.” 

The alpha leaned forward a little, his smile too sly for Dipper not to bristle slightly at him. Omegas didn’t have as much of an impact as alphas, but Dipper wasn’t above baring his teeth and growling if needed. 

“You know the law is that if one o’ you ain't married off, there's gonna be trouble for you.  _ Fines _ and whatnot.” Gideon peered disdainfully around at the kitchen. “Steep ones. Doubt you’d manage to pay ‘em, I’m sorry to say. Then one of you’d end up married to some stranger. Those anonymous matches…” The alpha shook his head.

Dipper stood his ground, not about to let Gideon even  _ think _ of proposing the idea of being mated to Mabel. “We've already got something worked out for that,” he lied. “Not that it's any of your business.”

Gideon clicked his tongue, his gaze drifting from Dipper to Mabel. She’d remained quiet until now, probably out of both fear and anger at what Gideon was suggesting. It wasn’t like her to keep her mouth shut. It made Dipper all the angrier.

“Yeah, Dipper and I have already got things going just _ fine _ .” The two hadn't planned  _ anything.  _ They were too busy trying to stay afloat and neither of them really thought it would ever come to this. “So thanks for the concern but there's nothing to be concerned about.”

Mabel had to be scared, stressed, and probably tired. Pride welled in Dipper’s chest for her, standing up to Gideon’s false charm in the diplomatic, polite way she was. Alphas were always so hard-headed when it came to omegas. She was a saint for having patience with one. Especially one like Gideon.

“Oh?” Gideon hummed, leaning back in the chair. Creaks and groans of protest came from the cheap seat, though the alpha seemed to be fully ignoring it. Dipper hoped the spindly plastic legs would snap and send Gideon crashing to the hard ground. “What kinda thing you two got in the works?”

His tone was casual. Too casual. Dipper knew his game.

“None of your business,” he said, a little harsher than before. “If all you came for was to check in on  _ that _ situation, then you can go now because I have it handled. Thank you, though.” He added quickly. 

He didn't dare make himself seem too big, not when Gideon would so easily win in a fight, but he didn't cower at the other's glare either. Omega or not, Dipper was going to stand up for his sister even if the biggest, baddest alpha in the state came to intimidate them.

A hearty laugh burst from Gideon’s lips. The alpha stood and brushed off his tacky, pressed clothes as if he’d accumulated dust sitting in their kitchen. 

“Well, all right, if you two are gonna be that way, then I guess there's not much lil’ ol’ me can do.” 

His smile faded when he looked Dipper in the eyes, his scent turning sour with anger when Dipper didn’t look down in defeat from his stare alone. Dipper held his gaze and dared to push out his own scent a little. It was a clear warning.  _ Leave _ . 

Apparently, his new job gave him a lot of confidence in  _ all  _ aspects of his life.

Gideon broke the eye contact first, and Dipper had to fight not to punch the air in triumph, until the alpha’s attention drifted back over to Mabel. His sweet, sinister smile spread out over his face in full force when she looked down and away from him. Dipper wanted to punch those perfectly straight bleached teeth. 

“I'll just come back another time to check in, then. I do hate to see y’all struggle so. And I will always be ‘round to help, should you need it. Just call. Thanks for the coffee,  _ Sugarplum _ .”

With a wink, Gideon finally showed himself out. The tension in the room melted as the omega twins sighed with relief, but it left the unmistakable scent of stress in its wake.

“We don't have a single thing lined up to help us with this- oh my God, Dipper, what are we gonna do? Even with your job and mine, we can't afford any of the fines. We should've been thinking about this as soon as we turned eighteen, why didn't we plan for this?”

Dipper put his hand on Mabel's shoulder, trying to come up with something— _ anything — _ that he could soothe her with. Taking on more clients could help with money, but that wouldn't stop the fines from coming in. Alphas just  _ had  _ to control everything, wanting to have a grasp over every omega.

Omegas weren't allowed to really be on their own. At least not in this country. Everyone (mostly alphas) spread the traditional and archaic idea that they were incapable of working and keeping up a home, so laws were put into place that would basically force them to have at least one alpha in control of the family at all times. He and Mabel had managed to squeak by because they kept their heads down, but now Gideon was calling attention to it and they would be forced to make a decision.

Mabel had always been a free spirit, dreaming of a romance that would blow all other romances out of the water. It wouldn't be fair to ask her to be the one to settle down with an alpha. Especially one like Gideon. And Dipper...he was already selling his body. He supposed having an alpha pay a dowry for him wasn't that much different. They could really use the money, it would keep Gideon and the law off their backs. 

Maybe he wouldn’t mind having an alpha to call his own. He’d learned through his work for Henry that a lot of alphas weren’t quite as bad as he’d always believed them to be. Then again, he didn’t know how much of that demeanor was because they had to behave in Henry’s establishment. And there was a slim chance that someone paying for him would be romantic, charming, or even attractive. He could be saddled with some creepy weirdo who couldn’t charm an omega enough in person. Worse still, there were plenty of alphas out there who still subscribed to  _ very  _ traditional teachings when it came to omegas. Words like “discipline” and “ownership” came to mind. 

But Mabel needed him, and Dipper would always be willing to take any kind of bullet for her. If he could take on a job as an actual prostitute for Mabel’s pet pig, he could certainly find himself a mate for her sake.

That being said, there was no way in hell Mabel would  _ let _ him take this bullet. He would have to keep this second secret from her until it was too late for her to convince him otherwise or do something stupid that might prove his efforts pointless. He wouldn’t put it past her to suddenly marry Gideon to stop him from suddenly marrying a stranger.

“It's okay, Mabel,” Dipper murmured as he pulled her into a hug. “You know us, we make it through everything, thick or thin. I'll come up with a plan before you even know it. And Gideon will have to take a hike.”

Mabel hugged Dipper back tightly, her distress still heavy in the air. “I know. Together we can do anything. We'll get through this.”

Except they wouldn't be together after this. Dipper would be going off with some stranger, one that might not even let him see her again. The alpha would assume control over this generation of their family, but there was every chance that they might never think twice about Mabel and leave her to her own devices. But with the dowry and getting Gideon off her back, he knew it’d be for the better. And at this point, it seemed to be pretty much their only option.

“Together,” he agreed, squeezing his sister in an effort to comfort her  _ and  _ himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find out NEXT TIME what Dipper does about this new predicament ;D
> 
> The next chapter shouldn't take too long to get out, but we'll see :p
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. 'Tis a Pity She Was a Whore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine asking Robo "hey, what should Dipper's prostitute name be?" and they respond IMMEDIATELY with "TWINKle"
> 
> I was forced to read this with my own two eyes. Now you all must share in my suffering.  
> -Cipher

Dipper only had about an hour before he had to leave for work. Who needed a shower when you could sit in front of your laptop, engaged in creating a profile that would let you sell yourself (literally) to the richest alpha? 

He never thought he’d be visiting the site. It was the most popular of its kind - used exclusively for alphas to find their desired omegas. It labelled itself as safe, warm, genuine. Of course, the ads would always show nothing but rich, attractive alphas and cute “breedable” omegas with “desired qualities”. Dipper knew better.

The website was way more likely to host serial killer types and desperate alphas who couldn’t find a mate on their own than the pleasant ones the homepage boasted about. Pleasant ones like the charmer he’d met at the bar a few weeks ago. And as for the omegas, the only ones there were the ones who hadn’t created their profiles themselves. A lot of parents wanted to marry their omega children off as soon as was legal so they could collect the dowry, and this was the place to do it.

Most, if not all of the alphas he’d already seen from just looking up those in his local area were less than desirable: unattractive for one thing, and their short bios made them seem a little creepy. Bordering on psychotic. Alphas who bragged about their power, whether it really existed or not. Alphas who demanded qualities and traits in omegas that Dipper knew didn’t exist in real people. All of them were rich, though, and as much as Dipper hated to admit it, he was digging for gold. 

Not that he had a choice. Sure, he could click a button on a profile he liked the look of - not likely - and hope that the alpha in question was interested enough to pursue him. But it was usually a case of the highest bidder winning their prize. Greedy parents wanted money, and so did Dipper.

In the other room, Mabel cooed at Waddles, saying sweet gushy things that made Dipper’s heart ache. He clicked his mouse without thinking about it. He had to do this for her.

Creating a profile took a little longer than he’d thought it would. Dipper had never been very good at making profiles, and right now he literally needed to sell himself. He hadn’t been under this much pressure since his math final. At least he had a few pictures of himself that weren’t too bad which saved him from struggling to take more. Beyond that, he had no idea what to say about himself.

Already he had a leg up because he was male - considered a rarity and therefore worth more, at least to some of the creeps out there - but that didn’t mean a bunch of rich alphas were going to come breaking down his door any time soon. He needed more than that. He needed to lie and be like the other omegas listed on the site, meek and dutiful and perfect. 

Dipper took in a deep breath, typing out a bio that sounded like something a parent might write, upselling everything about himself and adding a couple of fabrications when things didn’t look right.

Smart - but not mouthy, of course - just enough to keep up with an important conversation. Cute as a button with his soft brunet waves and warm brown eyes, as evidenced by his pictures. Knew how to cook, clean, patch up wounds, and all sorts of other things that made a useful omega. He didn’t add in many of his interests, knowing that none of the alphas would really care. They wanted a mate that would be good for their home, one that would take their mark, their name, and share their heats. Dipper would absolutely be setting some rules, drawing lines in the sand, but all he could  _ really _ do was hope that he’d get an alpha that was alright with him doing so.

The profile looked a bit plain, but then again most of the omega ones weren’t too flashy anyway. He figured that would do. With the profile created, Dipper closed his laptop and finally got up to get ready for work, hoping he’d be able to spit out what he needed to tell Big Daddy. The other would be nothing but understanding, of that he was sure, but that wouldn’t make it any less difficult to admit out loud what he was going to be doing.

The bus ride, much like the first time he’d gone out to see Big Daddy, dragged on impossibly. People got on, people got off, all going unnoticed by Dipper who couldn’t stop staring out the window. He felt the sullen expression plastered on his face, probably not unlike a man on his way to the electric chair. 

Telling Henry would make it more  _ real. _ The second Dipper said it out loud, it would be out there in the universe that he was selling himself to an alpha. A random alpha that could very well lock him away in the house and make his life hell.

In the end when he finally got off the bus, Dipper knew that at least Mabel would be getting a nice sum of money from it. She’d be able to pay Waddles’ vet bills, their late electric bills, possibly a whole lot more depending on how much his future alpha was willing to pay. And she certainly wouldn’t have to worry about Gideon pressuring her any longer.

Dipper peeked into Big Daddy’s usual hang-out room to see if the alpha was there.

“Dipper! You are right on time.” Henry stood, his broad shoulders reminding Dipper more of comforting hugs than frightening him like they first had. A couple of the girls smiled over at Dipper from the comfort of the sofa. “There are a few alphas already lined up for you tonight! You’re pretty popular, yeah?”

“I guess I have been doing pretty well lately,” Dipper chuckled, a bit awkwardly. “Uh, could I actually talk to you alone for a moment before I get started?” He wanted to reassure the alpha that nothing was wrong, but he certainly didn’t  _ feel _ like nothing was wrong.

Worry and a hint of anger fell over Henry’s face: usually when one of his workers came to him like this, it meant someone had hurt them or they were seeking shelter of some sort. The alpha still seemed to find it in himself to smile, nodding and leading Dipper away from the others to a more private room.

“Do you need help?” was obviously the first thing the concerned alpha said when the door closed. “If a client’s been bothering you outside of work I can teach him a lesson, if you need.” Big Daddy Henry’s usual cheer was absent from his voice, and while it put him off a little, Dipper appreciated how seriously the alpha was taking this.

“Well, no, I just came in to…I guess...quit.” Dipper sighed, looking down and trying his best to tame his scattered thoughts. “Like I told you before, I’m in a bit of a crappy situation at home, and things have just escalated. Some alpha is bothering my sister to marry him because it’s just the two of us at home and...I don’t want her to have to do that.”

“So you’re going to find an alpha first, yeah?” 

“Yeah, kind of,” Dipper said with a nod.

“You know you don’t have to do that? Just say the word and Big Daddy will deal with this alpha. You can keep working here, your sister won’t have to worry.”

Dipper’s smile was genuine. “Thanks, but the law’s going to catch up with us eventually anyway. Might as well get it over with sooner rather than later.”

Big Daddy nodded in understanding, humming a quiet noise of assent. “Fair enough, Dipper, fair enough. And listen, I can guarantee some of your regulars would pay a dowry for you! Like I said, some are lined up for your time tonight. Prebookings aren’t too common here, you know. I can weed out the ones who are no good, yeah?”

Dipper laughed, looking back up at Big Daddy with a thankful smile. The alpha was always so nice, he could hardly find the words to thank him for just being him. 

“I kinda made myself a profile on one of those websites, just because I figured that would be the fastest way to do it. The people on the site deal with a lot of the paperwork for you. I was panicking a little. But if that doesn’t work, I’ll definitely come back here and let some of the good regulars know that I’m available.”

The alpha’s usual warmth returned and he seemed to grow a little lighter. Any traces of anger were gone from his face. “I take it you’re going to work until you get an offer, right?”

“Yeah,” Dipper said softly. Though he still couldn’t believe it, he  _ liked _ this job. The only reason he was quitting in the first place was that he knew he had no hope of keeping it up if he got married. “If that’s okay.”

“Well, alright. Big Daddy is perfectly fine with that! You’ve been really great to work with, Dipper. I feel like tonight may be your last night, since I just know you’re going to get swept up real fast.” He smiled warmly, reaching into his pocket to pull out one of his business cards. From his front pocket came a pen, and lightning fast the alpha wrote down a new number on the back. “This is my  _ personal _ number, yeah? You use this if the alpha you get is mean.  _ Or  _ if your sister’s creep comes back.”

After a moment of staring at the card, thrown for a loop that Henry could be even kinder, Dipper took it and gave a firm nod. “Thank you.”

Big Daddy shrugged, stuffing the pen back into the front pocket of his black button up. “I look after my people, Dipper! And even though you won’t be working with us anymore, you’re still one of my people. I won’t tolerate some alpha buying you up and treating you like dirt.”

Touched beyond words, Dipper swallowed a burning sensation in his throat and thanked the alpha again, humble and quiet.

He felt oddly dishonest for the rest of his shift. Most of his clients were his regulars tonight - the ones that called him “Twinkle” (his work name) with a fondness and familiarity that unnerved him a little if he thought too much about it. And knowing he would soon be unavailable to them seemed deceitful somehow. Like he was cheating on a lover. 

Dipper wasn’t vain or big-headed, but he wasn’t a fool. Big Daddy’s business was booming since word had got out that he had a cute and versatile male omega up for grabs. How would that change, he wondered. How many clients would stop coming altogether? How many might get angry that their pre-booked sessions were cancelled?

He had to force himself to remember it wasn’t his problem. Dipper was his own person, and he was living his own life. As much as he could when he was about to sell it to someone else. Big Daddy was a businessman more than a brothel-keeper. He’d maintain professionalism at all times, of that Dipper was sure. He’d see the establishment through any upset Dipper would cause by leaving.

Throughout the journey home, his phone kept pinging with e-mail alerts. And each time, he glanced at the preview on his phone’s lockscreen before quickly shoving the device back in his pocket. They were notifications for bids on his profile. Bids on  _ him _ . And they were coming through by the dozen. He didn’t know whether to feel flattered or thoroughly creeped out. The latter seemed the most sensible. 

When the bus had cleared a little and there was no one behind him, Dipper chanced a peek at the profile of his latest bidder, who’d placed a bid of a measly three thousand dollars. Nicholas Chan, old enough to be Dipper’s father (and with the words “I can be your Daddy ;)” written in his bio), greying red hair. He was pale in all the wrong ways, wore one of those tacky gold chains around his neck, and had a list of things ten miles long that he expected from his omegas. Plural. Yuck.

Foraying into his admirers yielded no better results.

He avoided Mabel as much as he could when he stepped into the shack. She didn’t have to smell him to know he was anxious, and dealing with her incessant interrogation only made him worse. He wound up lying to her. Again. “I’m just tired,” he pretended. “Been worrying about money again.”

That part was true, of course.

As he curled down into his bed, feeling overwhelmed at the number of bids he was receiving even at this late hour, he grit his teeth and opened his laptop. A few deep breaths and a little sweating later, he forced his finger down on the mouse button.  _ Sort by: bids - highest to lowest _ .

He shut his eyes. Honestly felt a little bit sick. Was reminded of what it was like to be twelve and having to stand up in front of the whole class and give his ill-made group presentation alone.

Dipper opened his eyes.

Bright blue eyes set in a pale face stared back at him from the little profile picture, narrowed in what could only be described as a smug smile. The alpha’s warm blond hair was styled and short and fell carefully over the tips of his ears which pointed out from a face that was all sharp angles and hard edges. He looked...weird. Not bad, exactly. Just maybe not what Dipper had been expecting.

He drew his eyes away from the bid, determined not to look at it in case the alpha was  _ too  _ crazy to settle down with. Instead, he scanned the bio.

 

  * __William Cipher__


  * _Aged 25 years_


  * _10 miles outside Gravity Falls_


  * _Likes traipsing through the dense forest at 3am looking for portals to another dimension, solving complex mathematical equations, the $1 bill, contemplating cosmological mysteries, ass, the colour yellow, Vera Lynn, collecting things_


  * _Dislikes obtuse angles, salamanders of ANY KIND, gas stoves, being punched in the face, spiders_


  * _Looking for a low maintenance male omega who is attractive and obedient, witty and intelligent, and with a healthy fear of amphibians_



 

 

Dipper chewed his lip. He could be obedient. He could be witty. And puberty had seemed like hell at the time, but it’d been nothing if not kind to his appearance. 

He glanced over the bio again as uncertainty gnawed at his stomach. This alpha seemed strange. Unlike a lot of the others who’d shown interest in him. Quirky, in a way. Someone Dipper might learn to get along with, if he could ignore the fact that the man was essentially to buy him over the internet.

This was crazy. Not something any sane person with any other choice would do. But he  _ had  _ to do it. For Mabel. If not for her and her love for Waddles, for sparing her having to marry  _ Gideon _ of all people.

Oh, how he wished he’d taken that charming alpha at the bar up on his offer weeks ago. With any luck, he’d have been marrying  _ him  _ right now.

With a painful gulp, Dipper dragged his eyes up to the price this William Cipher was willing to pay for him.

His heart leapt up into his throat all over again.

Fifty.

Fifty  _ thousand  _ dollars.

What the  _ fuck _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Jaws theme plays in the background* someone's coming...
> 
> We update slow, but update we do! Do us a comment and receive gratitude. It has no monetary value :D  
> -Cipher

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Give a kudos, comment, and sub if you want more! :D <3


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